Page 12 of The Wilder Widows

“So, what do we do?” Alice asked.

“What we should have been doing all these years. Whatever the hell we want!” Slapping my thigh, I stood up. “We are each going to write down one thing we wish we would have done and put it there.” I jutted a finger to Doris’s knitting basket. “Then we make a pact that no matter what is on that note, we help each other do it.”

“An adventure!” Marge’s eyes bugged out even more. “I want an adventure!”

Teetering while I tried to stand, I pointed to her. “Yes! An adventure. Exactly. What do you say ladies? Are you in?”

“Anything we want?” Alice arched a brow.

“Anything.” I grinned.

“I’m in!” Alice set the whiskey down, and we all turned to Doris. “Doris? You in?”

While she chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes darted between us.

“Well?” Marge leaned in.

“What the heck! Let’s do it!” Doris clasped her hand over her mouth and stifled her giggle.

Without waiting, I stumbled to the kitchen and grabbed the notepad and pen I used to write my grocery list. Ripping off a piece of paper for each of them, I passed them out, and one by one, we wrote down our wishes.

“Ready?” I asked, folding up my own.

“Ready,” they mirrored, each clutching their own note.

Grabbing Doris’s knitting basket, I dumped out the contents onto the floor.

“Hey! Where am I supposed to put those?” Her face scrunched while she looked at her beloved knitting supplies in a heap on the floor.

“I know where you can put them.” Marge waggled her eyebrows, causing Doris to scoff and sit back.

“Alright, alright.” I waved my hand between them then set the empty knitting basket on the coffee table between us.

With a glance at each other, we all smiled and dropped our wishes in. I grabbed the lid and put it over the top, and we all sat back and stared at it.

“Today we start living our lives. The lives we were meant to live.” Crossing my arms, I pursed my lips and raked them all with my confident gaze. Today I was going to start living again.

CHAPTER FOUR

My head pounded like a marching band had set up shop in it. Hangovers of this magnitude were a thing of the past. A college staple I hadn’t felt in decades. While I struggled to open my eyes, I heard a groan behind me. Then I noticed the weight pressing down on my legs.

“What the?” When I blinked open my eyes, I saw Doris sprawled across my legs, our two bodies filling every inch of my couch. A long string of drool dangled from the corner of her mouth, inching its way toward my pants. As I glanced around my living room, flashes of the night flooded back as I made out the crumpled forms of Marge and Alice still passed out as well. The hideous brown fabric of Bruce’s recliner enveloped Alice like a cocoon, and Marge lay sprawled at her feet in an awkward heap on my rug.

“Ouch,” I whispered while I pulled my leg free of Doris’s head just a moment before the drool made contact. The movement startled her awake, and she sat up with a start. I was grateful she took her drool with her, and it didn’t land on my beloved couch.

“What’s going on?” Her wide eyes shot around my living room, and I was certain her mind was trying to piece together the evening, much like mine. “Am I? Did we sleep here?”

“Whiskey. That’s what’s going on,” Marge grumbled from the ground. The word whiskey pulled the color straight out of Doris’s face. “I feel like shit.” When she opened her eyes, I saw the same red hue in them that Doris sported as well.

“Good morning,” Alice sing-songed and stretched. “Whoa. You slept with Doris? Maybe Marge isn’t the only lesbian in this room.”

Doris gasped, but Marge and I just laughed. “How are you so chipper?” I groaned as I rubbed my throbbing temples.

After a long yawn, she shrugged. “I feel fine.”

Marge flopped onto her back, covering her eyes with an arm. “That’s because you spend your life either drunk or hungover. This is normal for you.”

“Why does my mouth feel like this?” Doris smacked her lips together. “I can’t swallow!”